


The Realms of Indamere

by kelswritesthings



Series: The Realms of Indamere [1]
Category: The Realms of Indamere
Genre: Adult Fantasy, Adventure, Elves, F/F, F/M, Fantasy, Introverts, Magic, Princess - Freeform, Romance, Romance Fantasy, Seattle, Seattle Washington, Urban Fantasy, Washington, Witches
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-17 08:47:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 16,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29963862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kelswritesthings/pseuds/kelswritesthings
Summary: A modern urban fantasy that follows the story of a missing magical princess, Emmalie (just, "Emma" please) Jacobs in Seattle, Washington. Stolen away from her original homeland as an infant, Emma has spent the last 25 years keeping her head down in hopes of not being discovered by her elven father, the King of Indamere- a realm that neighbors the human, mundane one she resides in today. Having been warned by her mother of the horrors and political struggles awaiting her in Indamere, Emma decides keeping a low profile as a library page in Seattle's Public Library System is the best way to go unnoticed. That is until an unexpected Elf begins to show an interest in her and all her title could mean for Indamere, the Realm of Witches, Elves, and Magic.
Relationships: Heterosexual and Homosexual relationships are present
Series: The Realms of Indamere [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2203854
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

Rain pounding onto the steel rooftop did little to drown out the monotonous thoughts swimming in Emmalie's mind. She had, unfortunately, been up for hours- the sweet escape of sleep evading her recently. Leaving her groggy and even more depressed on this dreary, brisk day in Seattle, Washington than usual. Sighing, she drove the last of her returned books in their cart to their proper location. Another day, another set of books to shelve. And little to no prospects of achieving more. But, what else could she expect at an entry-level library page position? At least it was full-time and paid the bills. Well, most of them.

As Emma shelved the final book, her phone buzzed in her back pocket. She pulled it out expectantly, a little flutter in her chest. She and Joshua had a date planned for tomorrow evening. Joshua worked in the IT department of the library. Maybe he was checking in? Nope. A text from her Mum reminding her to please not forget their lunch date this Sunday. She sent a quick "thumbs up" and "red heart" emoji message back and headed towards the staff room. She was one of the few employees left in the facility this evening. Not many preferred the graveyard shift at Seattle's Public Library, truth be told. Most avoided it due to rumors of ghosts residing between the pages of books. There were typically fewer patrons to serve in the midnight hours- less activity and excitement. Emma found it rather peaceful; if not a bit sobering. And she missed the sound of children's giggles during storytime.

She returned her book cart to its proper space next to her shared desk with another daytime library page. Gathering her leather tote and trench coat, Emmalie wondered at all the books she'd yet to discover. One would think working in a library provided her ample opportunity to read as many books as she'd like, and at any time she'd like. That was everyone's woefully wrong assumption. A librarian's dream-but a fantasy. Librarians had little time to read anything during work hours aside from book reviews, resources for books, technology tips/patterns, programming ideas, emails from other librarians, research, etc. And recently, Emma had been in a reading slump. She couldn't bring herself to fall in love with any more characters that only end up dying or disappointing her.

Besides, she'd been obsessing over Sarah J. Maas's two series now for at least a year. Last October, when she stumbled upon the series and proceeded to devour every book in each series. Few other authors compared in Emma's heart. She hurried her closing duties and smiled at the thought of returning to her fireplace, her tea, and the world of fan fiction writing. Throwing on her coat and thick striped scarf, preparing for November's unforgiving chill, Emma headed towards the front doors and set out for home.

Walking back, thoughts of children and teen programming ran through her head. She longed to work in the youth department, but as usual, there were few positions available. Especially when the competition was so steep in such a large region. Emma was always regarded as a bit ....odd by most of her cohorts' assessments. But kids... kids had always been drawn to her. Emma smiled at the thought. Like they were kindred spirits, her and young souls. Their curiosity and longing of adventure and life often agreed with her own state of mind. In reality, she wished to be far away from this realm. She longed to be in another. A world of magic and opportunity. But that was not where Emmalie Jacobs lived. She was stuck. Stuck in a world that knew nothing of what she was capable of.

"Heading home for the evening, Ms. Emma?" Inquired, Clarence, the kind and elderly security guard. His mischievous dark eyes glistened as if they knew a secret; perhaps Emma's secrets. Emma suspected he knew what she was. Some mortals could sense it. Clarence always had a bit of a strangeness about him too. He likely could empathize with Emma's feelings of isolation, being different, never quite fitting in. But he was never unkindly and didn't press her or ever imply he would use what he might suspect against her.

"You better believe it, Clarence. I've got a cup of tea and a whining cat waiting for me," She smiled at his slightly concerned, weathered face. He was strong for his age, but definitely aging. The evidence of this showed in the slight bend of his back, the new prescription glasses framing his dark face, the thinning of his short coiled hair, and in the heaviness in his dark eyes. Heaviness and subtle sadness after the death of his wife, Marie, from a few years before. But he quickly brushed off his look of worry and gave an amused huff of a laugh.

"You're a hoot, Ms. Emma. Some fellow or lady will be lucky to meet you someday." Clarence always made an effort to keep up with the times and not assume people's preferences. He was too good for this world- a world that made him feel so alone, unwanted, and strange.

"You be safe now. It's late and I worry about you walking alone..." His head angled warily towards the double doors he had just entered through.

"Thanks, but I think I can manage. You have a good night. Don't let the ghosts between the pages pester you." She teased. He huffed another laugh.

"They always do. But they've been quieter lately. Take care." He waved her goodbye, turned on his flashlight, and set to his usual rounds. The library had just closed and all lights were turned off for the evening.

Emma grinned and wished him a good night, while also recommending Stephen King's latest novel to him as Clarence believed that man to be as strange as he was. Pulling the hood of her jacket tighter, she regretted leaving her heavier raincoat at home, preferring style over practicality. Her teal eyes looked toward the "walk" street sign in her upcoming intersection and briskly headed forwards. Only a couple of more blocks and she'd be out of the wind and rain's ruthless howls, causing her caramel braided hair to fly around her head. Shivering, She focused on warm thoughts. A cozy fire while curled up in her favorite armchair. A cup of tea resting on her side table, and her laptop open, while chatting with strangers on the internet about Feyre Archeron, Aelin Galalythinyus, Manon Blackbeak and other strong female book leads. Women who didn't apologize for who they were, who didn't have to hide away their identities. Unlike herself. Her pace picked up with eagerness.

About halfway through her usual trek, Emma's heightened senses picked up on a sort of....presence. She caught herself checking behind her shoulder more than once in the near darkness. She could almost sense someone watching her. It was the same distance she trekked every day to and from the library but...Something felt...off. As though, as though perhaps someone or something was following her. Scattered street lights acted as the only source of illumination from the obsidian, thunderous evening. Gritting her teeth, tired of acting like prey, Emma paused, pivoted, and stood her ground. She had been trained in self-defense in college- never wanting to be a victim if she could prevent it. Besides, the instinct was in her blood. From both sides of the family, actually. She tried not to think of that little tidbit of her existence as she faced her predator.

"Is stalking helpless women on the street at night an amusing hobby to you?!," she spat at nothing. With the heavy rainfall and lack of reliable light, she couldn't detect anything that might respond. After several moments of soaking in the rain and staring at nothing but darkness, Emmalie shook her head and thought she must be imagining things. And hearing and seeing them too. Not thoroughly convinced, she practically jogged the remainder of the way home. Never looking back again. Eerily similar to her mother's own departure from predators nearly twenty-five years ago.

# ***

The auburn-headed, pointed-eared male smirked to himself, reshaping into his elven state from the shadows of a birch tree lining the darkened city streets. Shapeshifting into a black cat did have its benefits on dark evenings he thought. That girl was less obtuse than he'd predicted. Even years hidden away in the mortal world didn't appear to have lessened her exceptional senses. No average mortal would have even picked up on his presence. She would make a formidable Queen, he mused. Of course, after a few years of adjusting. She could be the answer to the civil war looming in his, their world.

A world in which it appeared this young woman knew nothing of. Even in the last few days of his spying on her, she made no indication of her knowledge of her homeland. The magical realm of Indamere. In a plane wholly separate from this mundane one. You couldn't even get pixie dust here for an evening of fun to drown out the monotony of this girl's life. All she did was travel to her occupation, read books, tap her fingers on that odd device, and sleep. Well, she did take up punching a heavy dangling circular tube three evenings a week in a communal training center. And she enjoyed cardio pursuits. He'd followed her these last few days, but gathered little personal information about her. For some reason, this irritated him. But, she was tough. He sensed and smelled that on her nearly immediately.

Yes, Indamere would find her to be a commendable leader. With time. Time, training, and patience of course. One does not become a well-honed magical ruler overnight. After all, she had been absent for well over two decades now. Twenty-five years, if he calculated correctly. But it wasn't his mission to wonder at her length of absence but to convince her to join him. To reunite her with her roots. After he spied on her for a time of course- to see if she was worthy, capable of connecting with the magic that slept in her veins. She appeared tougher than she looked, slight of a girl or no. He smirked at the thought of the dramatics this family reunion would ensue.


	2. Chapter 2

The storm outside continued to pour in great sheets as Emma swung the door open to her quaint apartment. Apartment 232 always smelled of vanilla and books pages, just as she liked it. The aroma was left over the night before in a collection of candles scattered throughout her small space. She was immediately greeted by this comforting scent and her hungry, fully black cat Shadow. Shadow's bright green eyes expressed warmth and love as she cried for attention and a request for a refill of her food bowl. She meowed softly as Emma hung her coat and scarf on the coat rack to her left. Shadow may not be able to communicate per se, but Emma knew her feline friend had a heightened sense of her owner's moods and feelings. She always seemed to know when to give her space and when to comfort her. Tonight Emma needed comfort. It felt lonelier tonight on her shift than usual, and she was still unsettled from her trek home. Shadow sensed this as her soft body curled itself around her human's legs. Emma bent down to offer the sweet feline a grateful scratch behind the ears.

Still slightly unsettled, Emma made quick work of heating the tea kettle sitting on her stove and turned to the food pantry to her right to retrieve Shadow's favorite meow mix. The kitchen was to Emma's right and connected to her living space with only the counter as a barrier between the two spaces. Emma made efforts to push her anxiety down and fell into her late evening routine. Doing so would help settle her nerves. Or, at least she convinced herself it would. Surely she had just imagined the sensation of prying eyes on her way home. Enhanced instincts and senses or no.

"Another quiet evening in the library, Shadow. You can offer me some entertainment tonight, right?" Emma teased. Shadow merely stared up at her expectantly. Still waiting on her food bowl. Although, she did angle her smooth head in what could best be described as concern and suspicion as she glanced at the front door. Almost as if she were expecting company. Shadow disliked strangers. Odd, Emma thought. She turned her attention to the door nervously. Certainly, the feeling of being followed would lessen soon. She must have imagined it due to the harsh weather and lack of human interaction. She just needed to settle in for the night.

"Fine, fine. Here's your food first." Emma placed the filled kitty bowl in Shadow's eating space. Shadow ate greedily but looked up every so often at the front door. Emma chose to ignore it. Coward, she chastised herself. What would her literary heroes think of her avoidant behavior? Thankfully, fictional characters couldn't interact with her directly. She smiled at the thought of greeting them again into the world of Wattpad. Checking to make sure Shadow had enough water before following the remainder of her evening routine, Emma changed into charcoal grey sweatpants and an oversized cream sweater. Her bra fell on the floor before she pulled the sweater over her head. 

The warmth and familiarity of it soothed the aching in her heart. Her breasts felt liberated and free after a day's worth of being caged in their underwired prison. She stretched her arms over her head, linked her fingers, and then relaxed. Satisfied with her evening attire Emma headed back toward her living room and ignored the pangs of loneliness as she prepared for a long evening of writing. 

Emma never enjoyed facing the reality of how alone she really was. Dwelling on it made her feel pathetic. At least she had her virtual friends. Friends from all over the world who shared her interests in fantasy. But even they could not be privy to her true identity. Even her own father was unaware of her existence. Or, at least she hoped he still was. That's what her mother had been assuring her for years. Promising he'd never steal her away in the night as she smoothed back her daughter's wavy hair on thunderous nights much like this one. Even in childhood, Emma had felt very much alone. Homeschooled due to her mother's paranoia, she was often left to her own devices for entertainment. At least she had fiction. That, and the internet of course.

In the kitchen, the tea kettle hissed to alert her the hot water was ready to become herbal tea. Emma made quick work of reaching for one of her quirky mugs in the kitchen's top counter-a green and brown owl-shaped one for this evening, and poured herself a cup of tea. She then made her way for the couch. Shadow hopped on the burgundy wool couch to join her owner as Emma pulled the closest fuzzy blanket over her lap. 

Shadow curled into a ball next to her side as Emma opened her laptop and got to work on her newest fan fiction writing project. An amusing short story about Feyre and Aelin meeting in person for the first time. The two heroines from different realms by the same author. What a calamity of a meeting that would be she mused silently to herself. Emma had always loved writing. For as long as she could remember. But, her mother discouraged her talent early on. Always fearful her biological father would somehow find them more easily if Emma ever went anywhere with the pursuit. That never stopped Emma from writing in secret though.

She stored journals in hidden places under her wooden floors, in pillowcases, and even tucked away between the folds of sweaters in her dresser. She purchased them all with birthday and holiday money over the course of the years. She'd write in the late evening hours by flashlight. It took years to convince her mother there was no harm in writing online with a discrete pen name. She finally relented when Emma was about 16. She hadn't stopped typing since. She smiled at the idea of mentioning her enthusiasm for fan fiction to Joshua tomorrow. Truthfully, the idea of an actual date with him made her stomach churn. But Josh was nice...or at least as nice as any guy she had met over her 25 years. He had a bit of a mild demeanor, if not a bit boring really.

Emma was sure she was also considered quite boring to their peers and coworkers. She mostly kept to herself. Having been trained since birth not to get too close to anyone who might discover her special "abilities" as her mother always referred to them. Her mother had them too. Evangeline Darkwoods was from a certain Witch Realm in Indamere. But she never gave away much information beyond that. Emma knew her mother was exceptionally talented, even for a witch. She was able to sense things, develop quick spells in a bind, and always had the right herbs on hand when her daughter felt under the weather.

Emma hated that her mother felt she must hide herself and her daughter away. She'd never really delved into why outside of convincing her daughter that the world of Indamere was far too dangerous for a half breed. In truth, Emma wasn't even sure what the other half of her lineage was. Outside of him being a king. And a not so kind one at that from her mother's rantings and warnings.

But they had gotten by. Evangeline worked as a nurse in a hospital nearby and had so for years. She gained her education while raising Emma in the heart of Seattle, Washington. Surviving off selling her healing herbs to other local supernatural beings as a side gig. One that Emma now followed in secret. She hated hiding things from her mother, but she felt it necessary for them to have a peaceful coexistence. Evangeline's customers had never been allowed to meet Emma. Her mother had always made sure to conduct business in obscure places such as dim bars and even nightclubs.

She developed drugs humans sought out as well, if only for a moment of distraction and utter ecstasy. An escape from their mundane lives. Emma wished she had been granted the same means of escape. She could now, she realize. She was an adult, and a skilled half-witch herself. But the fear of not being in control of her body or her mind scared her. At least she had her writing, her books, and her cat.

With that bit of positive thinking in mind, Emma stretched her arms over her head, blew a breath of sweet relief to have made it home, and set to work on her writing. Losing herself to the characters she had grown to love so much. More than she'd perhaps loved another person. Mundane, magical, or otherwise.

# ***

The sly black cat stared blankly outside of Emma Darkwoods's small apartment window. Damarus sighed in annoyance. Here he was soaked to the bone with no trees to shield him from the autumn storm. While the missing princess of Elvish Indamere sat bundled and warm in her tiny, cozy-looking dwelling. She was sitting on that lumpy excuse for furniture. Again. With that tiny black feline that always seemed to pick up on his presence. Well, as best as any mundane cat could. He wondered at why the creature hadn't warned its owner yet.... Surely a sorcerous and her familiar were used to mental communication. Even if she was only half-witch. Yet another raining evening spent spying on the most boring princess he'd yet to meet. Well, not exactly meet if he was honest with himself. He was, in fact, spying on the young woman. What exactly was His Majesty expecting to gain from her?

He knew she likely had talents he and others could only dream of. Being the offspring of two of the most powerful ruling bodies in Indamere had to come with its magical perks. But surely this girl knew nothing of her lineage if she preferred to spend her time huddled indoors in a mundane realm...and alone. Well, at least she ventured out to release whatever tension he could feel radiating from her body a few evenings a week. That was another mystery. Why could he pick up her every mood shift and ailment on the girl? It was as though he'd known her for years... Which made utterly no sense to Damarus. Sighing again in frustration over his solitary pondering, he determined that she'd stay sedentary for the remainder of the night. He hopped down from his post at the ledge of a gargantuan four-sided structure and reshaped into the sly black cat with sapphire eyes. Content to curl into a ball and slumber under an empty bus bench across the street of the missing princess's dwelling.


	3. Chapter 3

Emmalie was deeply absorbed in her favorite fictional worlds when her phone alarm sounded and she finally glanced at the time glaring at her from her computer screen. The alarm was warning her of the early morning hour. It was exactly 4 a.m. What time had she made it home again? About 2:15 a.m... that's right. Emma reached for her phone on the side table next to her long-forgotten tea to turn off the alarm. She always had to make herself set an alarm before writing. Otherwise, she'd type through the night without a wink of sleep. Just one of the many ailments that came from being a writer, and a night owl in a world that was alive during the light hours of day. Though she worked afternoons to evenings, the library actually closed by 12 a.m. Her usual schedule was from 6 p.m.-2 a.m. most nights.

Considering staying up just a touch longer to begin on another chapter, Emma realized even if she fell asleep immediately she'd still only have about 7 hours of sleep before her next shift. She went in at noon tomorrow so as to be able to be off by 8 p.m. for her date with Joshua. Her cheeks warmed at the thought. He was handsome and tall and polite. A catch for any other girl, she thought. She wondered what on earth he wanted with her? Emma knew she was attractive. She had a sweet, soft face with sharp cheekbones and bright eyes. She was attractive, slight, and worked hard to be in shape. But she knew she was a quieter type. Much like Josh himself, and those sorts always tended to gravitate to more outgoing girls. Much like girls herself looked toward more confident guys. Or, at least that was Emma's own probably skewed assessment. Perhaps she simply thought opposites attracted and felt there was nothing wrong with that... But Joshua was nice enough and he had asked her to dinner. How could she refuse when she never had plans with anyone anyways? Well, that wasn't quite true. Not anymore, at least.

Emma smiled to herself as she thought of the tender, new friendship she had gained recently with another witch of her mother's homeland. She had met Rowena in the "New Age" section of the library in early September. The witch was a ball of additive, enthusiastic energy whose charms mortals couldn't easily resist. She was a vet tech in a local Veterinary Clinic, not so far from the library. Rowena had been curious of what mortals had to say in regards to her kind as she perused the stacks and happened to notice Emma as she was shoving away books. Their kind, Emma realized. The idea of actually knowing another immortal being aside from her mother was still a bit strange to the young witch. She recalled first being acquainted with Rowena like it was yesterday.

# ***

"Is this entire row all dedicated to witchy topics?" asked a honey-sweet voice behind Emmalie's shoulder. She turned to focus on the source of the voice as she was putting away a book on a particularly high shelf. She turned completely to face the inquiring patron. Rowena was a beautiful witch. She had coppery hair pulled back in a ponytail and bright, mischievous blue eyes. She was dressed in a long-sleeved, striped button top and black slacks. Very professional looking for a library patron, Emma thought.

"Oh yes, ma'am. We've got tons of books on the topic. It's very..." she thought for a moment, "In now-the topics of witches and magic. People love it." She shrugged but held an easy smile. Rowena mirrored her gaze.

"I guess I can see that! I never imagined humans would be so fascinated in our kind until I moved here," Rowena stated as she refocused on the collection in front of her. An excited, wide smile danced on her lips.

"Pardon?" Emma asked nervously. She'd known there were other magical beings in the mortal realm. But her mother had made her believe they were all outlaws and trouble. People she should avoid at all costs if she didn't want her father to have another leg up in finding them.

"Oh, I could tell from a mile away what you were. You're like me. A witch." Rowena stated matter-of-factly, still hyper-focused on her research, her fingers practically caressing the books on the shelves. "There's a certain...scent to us, ya know? Like cloves, lavender, and a touch of sandalwood. Not all of us smell the same, but we can always pinpoint our people."

Emma allowed herself to consider this and her own response. The more she thought about it, the more she did realize the witch near her did carry a familiar scent about her. Luckily, there were few patrons in the library this evening and none were perusing around this section. It was already getting a bit late, around 9:30 p.m. if not 10 p.m. It might actually be safe to discuss this topic here. "Would you...would you mind keeping this tidbit of our heritage to yourself?" she asked the stranger quietly, but not weakly. Emma may have been sheltered her entire life, but she wouldn't risk exposure to herself or her mother.

"Well, of course! Don't want the mundies to find out about all our secrets do we?" Rowena teased lightly with a wink at Emma. Mundies? Emma had never heard the term before. It became quite clear though after a short moment that the witch was referring to magicless beings-humans. Regardless of her perhaps better judgment, Emma smiled at the witch. They appeared to be close in age too, give or take a few years.

"If you're interested in herbs in the area, there's a great reference in the 615's by medicines " Emma offered as she noticed Rowena scanning the stacks focused on healing elements.

"Hey, thanks" the witch smiled again, "You're really helpful. Whatcha name?" she looked expectantly towards Emma. Emma who had no friends and not much of a life outside of her mother and her cat. She considered lying and pretending she was only volunteering, if only not to get too close to this fellow witch. It was for her own protection, her's and her mother's. But then...thoughts of her own pathetic loneliness began creeping in. Pressing in, really. This black hole in her life that always left her feeling quite empty. It wasn't fair. Evangeline was allowed to meet with other immortals, why shouldn't Emma? This woman seemed harmless, friendly even.

"Emmalie. My name is Emmalie, but I prefer Emma." she finally got out.

"Emma" smiled Rowena. "I think you and I were destined to meet, Emma. Now, show me exactly where this herbology book might be, and then we can chat all about local places that cater to beings such as you and me." Emma couldn't help the smile that spread across her face. Destined to meet, destined to finally find a real friend.

"Right this way!" and the two witches headed towards household herb remedies and an undying friendship.

# ***

Shadow meowed and looked up at her exhausted human expectantly. The feline always knew when Emma had reached her limit of sleepiness and often acted as her own personal alarm clock. She smiled and rubbed the soft fur of Shadow's ear. But troubled thoughts began to swim in her mind...Emmalie had not realized before becoming acquainted with Rowena how often witches traveled between the two realms. Apparently, it was much more common than she had ever been lead to believe. Another result of her mother's secrecy and near-possessive nature. But, regardless of all that, Emma finally had made a friend in the most unexpected of places- her job. She smiled at that.

But she would be thankful for her unexpected blessings at a more reasonable hour. Plus, she had plans to meet up with Rowena not long after her date with Joshua. For now, she needed to rest. Stretching, Shadow purred in approval and pounced off the couch only to follow Emma to her full-sized bed in the room behind their kitchen living room combo. Emma gathered the heavy star-themed comforter over her ears and snuggled down with Shadow for the remainder of the morning. Sleep soon found her.


	4. Chapter 4

The inconspicuous black cat curled under the bus stop bench nearest Emmalie's apartment was rudely awoken by the increasing hustle and bustle of Seattle's morning foot traffic. Annoyed at the unexpected screeching of a bus's breaks not two feet from his bed for the night, the cat hissed and made a break for the closest dark alley-as was to be expected of most street cats when startled. But this was not your typical street cat. 

Checking first for any potential onlookers, the cat swiftly transformed into the Elf King's most trusted advisor and guard. Damarus rotated his head from left to right and stretched his shoulders, feeling stiff from remaining in his animal state for several hours. He was dressed in a black hoodie, dark jeans and a charcoal grey peacoat. Taking after the style of the realm he resided in. He made a mental note to thank Andria once again for her consideration and research.

Sighing, he realized the late hour. Well, late for an official such as himself. Judging by the placement of the sun, he estimated it was nearly 8 o'clock in the morning. That explained all the people being out. Not that they weren't out all hours of the day and night in this behemoth of a dwelling. In truth, he'd never visited such a place as large and seemingly full of life as this. Aside from The Mountain Realm of course. Home..Damarus considered the time and when to begin following his runaway princess.

He knew Emma wasn't due for her employment until at least midday. His stomach began to ache and gurgle as Damarus pondered what to do with this unexpected free time. Ah, breakfast it was then. He'd scouted a regular coffee stop Emmalie tended to frequent after a more exhausting day at her place of employment. He found himself smiling at the thought. Even in Indamere, those who weren't employed by The Grand Library always assumed staff lazed around and read books and scrolls all day. 

He knew from first-hand experience that this assumption was far from the truth. A hot mug of caffeine tended to perk the young woman up after a particularly long shift of lifting, shelving, cataloging books, and researching the oddest of inquiries for the patrons of Seattle's own library. Determined to be at his full strength before beginning his usual stalking schedule, Damarus pulled the peacoat closer to his body and headed towards The Hygge Hotspot-Seattle's most famously owned Danish coffee spot- According to Emma's opinions.

After a few minutes of strolling downtown Seattle, he eventually found himself standing in front of The Hygge Hotspot. Stepping inside, he smiled to himself and was thankful yet again for magical currency that automatically shifted to match the correct currency for whichever realm he visited. He should thank Andria once again for this particularly clever little charm. Andria was on the Elvish Guard like himself but she was a witch- an unusual ally for the elves. Most witches stayed true to their realm and vice versa for most elves. It was simply the way of things. But not for Andria. She never did enjoy following the rules, nor doing what was expected of her.

He smirked at the thought of seeing her again and explaining all the strange sightings and experiences he'd had while visiting this mortal world. Swaggering up to the counter, Damarus offered a flirty smile to the waiting barista and ordered the first item he read off the menu- a holiday specialty. He might be on a mission to retrieve and convince the lost princess of Indamere to join the Elven King's cause, but he could have a little fun too.

"One peppermint mocha, please," he said as he handed her the correct bills. She smiled back and asked him his name.

"Why... might you need my name?" He inquired cautiously.

"Umm...to make sure it doesn't get mixed up with someone else's order" she explained a bit dumbfoundedly.

"Oh. Right. Of course. It's....Dameon," he was not about to give this mortal woman his true name.

"Dameon. Your name is Dameon? Like in The Omen?!" She asked a bit excitedly.

"Uh. Maybe?" Damarus stared at her curiously.

"Well all right, Son of Satan, your order will be ready in just a bit." She smirked.

"Um...Thank you."

Slightly baffled and uncertain of whom this infamous "Satan" might be, he then turned and scouted for a place to sit and wait. Flirting, he decided, could come later. He still had a bit of pixie dust saved from his last venture in Indamere's city of Ivannhane. He could meet and flirt with women another time to decompress from all his recent annoyingly dull duties. Regardless of his lack of success with this mortal, Damarus found himself once again thankful that mortals spoke the common language. It was a bit surprising actually. But little surprised him nowadays-after lifetimes of guard experience in the Elf King's castle. He supposed he should brush up more on this realm's common "pop culture" as it was called.

Perhaps he could research this "Satan" figure in Seattle's Public Library System later today. The name somehow sounded familiar, so he assumed it must be well-known. The libraries of Indamere did hold his world's most precious knowledge, but little to no subjects of the human realm existed. It was almost as if the realm was completely forgotten about by its magical neighbor. He'd done some research at least while taking a break from watching Emma all week. He couldn't very well appear to just be stalking the girl all day-he'd be too noticeable. So why not expand his horizons while on this extended mission?

Damarus plopped down at the furthest bench from the coffee counter at the left corner of the small, cozy shop- plenty of space to scout out potential risks. He was accustomed to always being on alert. It was his duty and his life's purpose. And the reason he relied on distractions and temporary thrills such as pixie dust, and nights out dancing to get away from it all. He wished he could take a break soon, but he still had some stalking to do here before feeling confident enough to actually approach Emmalie.

Thumbing his hands against the most likely "organic" wooden table-whatever that meant- he waited patiently for his own peppermint mocha. A particular favorite of the missing princess. He recognized it the moment he saw the sugary beverage advertised on the large menu behind the barista counter. She had ordered it a few days ago. And she seemed to enjoy it.

She had twisted the top of the paper mug off as soon as she sat down at her bench, and took a huge whiff of the sweet aroma. Her hair was pulled up in a somewhat eschew, somewhat elegant upward fashion. That stripped scarf hanging around her neck and a small smile placed on her delicate lips. The object she always tapped her fingers on was seated in front of her, the leather tote she carried hung from her chair. She then placed the lid back on and took a big gulp of her warm beverage. She'd been...a sight to see. Never had he encountered another person who seemed to just... savor things-savor life in such a way as she did. It was as though she believed the world was hard enough without having to go out of her way to show she appreciated all its little treasures. He found himself smiling at the thought, unsure why...

"So. You must be the elf stalking my dearest friend," chirped an unexpected, sweet voice. Pulling him out of his thoughts and back into the present a young woman stared at him expectantly, but not unkindly. Damarus found himself shocked. He somehow hadn't noticed a beautiful witch standing right in front of him. The King of Indamere's own personal, highly trained guard-and yet this witch had gotten right past him-eh, in front of him. He shook his head at the amazement of his thoughts being so preoccupied and took a moment to focus on the woman standing before him. She was slim, tall, with hair like a golden pink sunrise and blue eyes that expressed intellect and kindness.

"I...I believe you must have me mistaken, um...ma'am" he stumbled. As he took in the dazzling woman standing before him, her hands crossed protectively in front of her chest, it hit him. He knew her. Well, he knew of her from stalking the missing princess. She was a friend of Emmalie's. He recognized her from this same coffee shop the day the missing princess had patronized it. The witch had met with Emmalie not long after she began focusing her mind and fingers on her device. This witch was powerful, he realized. He could smell her power ruminating and coiling from inside her. It begged for an outlet. All magical creatures experienced this pressure from long periods of abstaining from their gifts.

"Oh, I don't believe I do, Damarus Hearttrue," she smirked knowingly. "I know you've been watching my friend. Most likely for the same reasons I've been," she admitted a bit sheepishly.

"How do you know my name?!" the King's Guard demanded, "And why are YOU stalking the missing princess of Indamere" he harshly whispered-attempting to keep his voice down and level. The last thing he needed was to expose his home and identity to this coffee shop of mundanes.

"Son of Satan, your order is ready," called the barista girl with a laugh playing on her lips and in her voice. Rowena smiled in sarcastic delight.

"Hmm. Son of Satan, that has a nice ring to it. Only, I thought it was MY kind that most mortals associated with the evil," the witch teased.

"They would be wise to continue to think this way," fumed Damarus realizing now what attributed to the surprise and teasing of the barista girl. He felt flustered and curious as to why she was also stalking Emmalie. She was his mission, his project. Well, this witch had a leg up on him, that was for certain. She had at least met and developed a relationship with the young woman. She was leaps and bounds ahead of him, in fact. He strode up to the coffee counter and snatched his beverage, not even bothering to glance at the staff, and sulked back to his seat. It would figure a witch would make a connection with the missing princess before he did.

"I know your name, Genius, because there's not a witch, elf, nor any other species in Indamere that's unaware of you and your legendary track record," chastised the witch. 

Damarus flinched. He resented his reputation for being a killer. A killer for the defenseless, he gently reminded himself. For his King. And well, he enjoyed combat and swordplay. But even today, the past memories of his kills still troubled and ailed him. Yet another reason he relied on pixie dust to keep the darkness of his thoughts at bay. But when you worked for the king, you couldn't exactly put your morals before your orders. You did what you must, for the good of Indamere.

"So, let me guess," he began, "you've befriended the princess in order to convince her to fight for your side." The clever witch's smirk faltered and she immediately became more serious, even subdued.

"No, not exactly....I was sent to befriend her, and convince her to return to her homeland in hopes of ending the threats of civil war," she explained as she took the seat in front of him, her eyes downcast.

"Ah. A very noble pursuit. Coincidence that we're on the same mission, huh," he remarked before taking a big gulp of the delicious nectar. He'd have to remember to advise the chefs of the castle to replicate this delightful treat for himself and for Emmalie....that is, if she would come with him. Or this witch. And that was a very big _if_. She appeared content with her life and her fake friendship with the woman before him. He hoped the blow once she realized the witch's intentions wouldn't hit her too hard.

"It's not just a mission to me," Rowena explained, "I have grown to care for her. You know as well as I do that she just might be the answer to avoid this war. She's talented magically and physically and....she's kind. A true, genuinely kind soul. And one of the only offspring between a witch and an elf in existence." Damarus considered for a moment, continuing to sip his new favorite beverage.

"How about this, first WE become acquainted, Witch, and then we'll see how to take this project from there." Rowena smiled brightly at this suggestion and settled in to explain her story.

"Very well, Damarus. My name is Rowena Oakwood and I originate from the Star Realm of the Witch Kingdom."


	5. Chapter 5

Emma shuffled nervously on her feet. The Hygge Hotspot was packed this evening but that wasn't very surprising given the unseasonably pleasant weather today, and the fact that it was a Friday. A local band appeared to be setting up at the small stage to her far right that was used by music performers and slam poets. She smiled at the idea of coffee and a show as she waited in line to order her new favorite drink, the peppermint mocha. So delicious it tasted sinful. Josh hadn't shown up yet and she was starting to worry he might not. She wouldn't be too shocked considering her luck. It was only a coffee date, after all. Nothing too formal or romantic. That was the deal she'd struck with him. Keep things casual and see where it took them. Besides, she knew local bands and artists often performed here on the weekends so even if the conversation lapsed, at least there would be live entertainment to distract Joshua from her awkwardness.

"Next" called the young, punk-looking barista girl boredly. She waited patiently as Emma stepped up the line.

"Yes, hello, sorry. I'd like one small peppermint mocha, please. My name is Emma"

"No problem. That'll be $3.75."

Emma handed the barista her card and turned to scout again for Joshua. No luck. Hmm. She was beginning to worry. Maybe he got lost? The library wasn't that far from this coffee shop though. The close stroll from here to the library was the whole reason she suggested this spot for their date. Well, that, and she was familiar with the space, and it had a casual vibe about it. She preferred the frequent spots she was used to visiting. It was silly, and she even considered it a bit cowardice, but Emma enjoyed working and meeting people in spots she was comfortable with. New places and new people together was all a bit much for her. And Joshua was still a relatively new person. The barista handed her back her card and informed her it should only take a moment. She nodded in thanks.

Thinking she should at least grab a table before The Hygge Hotspot became too crowded, Emma sat down a few tables away from the stage. She smiled shyly at the musicians setting up, getting ready to rock their socks off. She recognized their lead singer. She'd heard them perform here before and knew they were talented. Sweater Weather was the band's name and she believed their sound suited this area of Seattle perfectly. They were quite indie in tone and a lot of the locals tended to follow them. The lead singer smiled back, perhaps recognizing her from a previous performance here. Emma was here nearly every Friday night. She enjoyed coming here at the end of the workweek as a sort of award to herself for sticking it out and making it through another week.

"Peppermint mocha for Emma," announced the same bored barista. She set down her tote and coat in her seat and made her way back to the coffee counter. Emma smiled and thanked her as she turned to gather napkins-just in case she made a mess-only to practically run into a gorgeous, tall man in the process.

"Wow, I know the peppermint mocha is delicious, but you don't need to run a man over for it," smirked the auburn-haired, green-eyed man standing before her, right in front of her, in fact. He was dressed casually in a black hoodie, a charcoal grey peacoat, and dark jeans. His hair was long and pulled back into a somehow smart-looking ponytail. Only this man could pull that look off in a city of hipsters, Emma thought. Dumbfounded by his beauty and her clumsiness she just stared up into his mesmerizing eyes for a much longer time than she considered appropriate. Her had a slight tan and a strong build. She shook her head.

"Oh, ummm, gosh. I'm so sorry. Did I spill any on you?!" she asked sheepishly, fumbling for a napkin clutched in her hand, looking in any direction but his face. Damarus smirked. This task might come easier than expected if she was this flustered from simply running into him. Maybe she'd be more willing to listen to him than he previously thought.

He chuckled. "No problem at all. I get excited about the peppermint mocha too. Emma, right?"

"How...how do you know what I'm drinking...and how do you know my name?!" she whispered, forcing herself to look into his mischievous eyes once again. Anxiety and distrust swam in her eyes.

"I heard the barista announce your name and beverage, plus, it has your name on the side so I thought I'd take a shot in the dark." His eyes were practically dancing with amusement.

"Oh, of course. Duh. So...you like mochas too?" she asked somewhat stupidly. The previous fear in her face subsided.

"Who doesn't? They're suitable for the gods."

Emmalie laughed. She actually laughed at his silly joke. And it was the most pleasant sound he'd ever heard. This realization startled Damarus. How was it that he felt so affected by this woman he had barely met? Well, aside from stalking her the last couple of weeks. He knew enough about her to agree with the witch's assessment. Emma was kind. A gentle soul. But he needed a warrior. He only hoped she could be up for the challenge and bridge their two kingdoms. There was still time to learn of all her strengths and whether or not they would benefit Indamere.

"Agreed. They certainly are," she looked a bit embarrassed but also at ease in a way. Like catching up with an old friend after a long bout of being apart. The feeling unnerved him further.

"Yeah. They're delicious. Um....any idea who that ragtag group of musicians are?" he inclined his head towards the band. They were nearly set up now, doing mic checks and last minute tune-ups on their instruments.

"Oh, they're Sweater Weather. They're well-known around here. They perform at least once a month..." Emma caught herself. She wasn't known for conversing this much with a stranger. The same happened with Rowena she thought. Maybe getting out of her mother's house might have helped with her social skills after all.

"Sweater Weather, huh? How quaint. I'm Damarus" he stretched out his hand, waiting for her to take it.. She stared at it. A worn hand. A hand she was meant to shake. Against her better judgment, she took it.

"Emmalie Jacobs. But you can call me Emma. Well, I guess you already knew that" she glanced down again at her coffee cup.

"Right, of course, Emma," he smiled as if the cadence of her name pleased him, "Nice to meet you. Care if I join you? My friend was supposed to show up ages ago and I'm afraid I'm quite new in town."

She glanced at where she'd left her coat and tote bag. Neither were disturbed, but there was still no sign of Joshua either.

"Umm...sure. I guess that'd be okay. Though I warn you, I'm not much for company..." she stared down at her boots self-consciously. Her cheeks were pink. It was the prettiest shade of pink he'd ever seen. The color lit up her teal eyes.

"I highly doubt that. You have great taste in coffee. Let's start from there." She smiled shyly at him once again and led the way towards her table.

# ***

Damarus thanked the gods above for allowing him to run into Rowena earlier today as well as Emma's pathetic, mortal date. The witch had been kind enough to inform him Emma's usual schedule had changed today and he knew just where to look for her after her shift. He was glad his hunch was right. Well, that and Rowena had also told him Emma had plans to meet with her that evening at the coffee shop as well.

Now he had a real chance to gain her trust and hopefully help build her confidence from there. He almost felt sorry for the poor bastard who was supposed to be her date. Damarus had managed to catch Joshua only moments before walking into the coffee establishment. Shape-shifting into a criminal-looking figure, Damarus had demanded Joshua stay away from Emma, claiming she was entangled in a sort of gang-related situation, and that it would be best for everyone's safety if he stayed far away. Damarus at least new about gang dynamics. He studied up on the dangers that may be awaiting him in the human realm a week or so before his venture.

He knew it was Josh the moment he set his trained eyes on the guy. Well, Rowena's description certainly helped rule him out as well. He was slightly above average height, dark hair and blue eyes with smart-looking black frames. The academic-looking man had appeared shocked and not at all argumentative. He shakily promised to never approach Emma again and ran like mad in the direction he was coming from. Damarus realized this tactic may have come off as a bit theatrical, but well, at least it had succeeded so far. Now he had some private time with the runaway princess. Time to actually get to know her, gain her trust, and then somehow explain her full heritage and convince her to travel back with him to Indamere. It was a mere train ride away after all, if you knew the right people and possessed the necessary charm. He himself hoped he possessed the necessary charm to gain Emma's trust, especially now with how he was hoping to win it.

For some reason, he didn't like lying to her. The thought pulled a pit in his stomach. He felt uneasy about this decision which was strange considering a couple of weeks ago he had no qualms about his mission-however, the previous plan didn't exactly involve becoming friendly with the girl. After watching her the last couple of weeks, he determined developing a relationship first might be the easiest way to win her over. She seemed astute enough to eventually find him out though, he worried. He shook his head, Deciding to put his worries in the back of his mind. Damarus followed Emma to her table and convinced himself this was the best course of action. Develop a friendship first, then dropping the bombshell that he was actually a soldier and messenger for her father, the Elf King of Indamere might be the only way to save his home. Yes, this should all go over quite well....he hoped.


	6. Chapter 6

"Okay, Darlene. That's two small bottles of lavender oil and a muscle soother ointment. Is this all you need tonight?"

Rowena looked up from her notepad, smiling at her middle-aged, kindhearted regular. It was a Friday evening and she was once again keeping her shop open two hours after closing. She stayed open later and later it seemed these weeks... But, the holidays were coming soon and business was picking up. She couldn't pass up the opportunity to make a few more sales before traveling back home. Her true home. If she could actually afford it. Not that she wanted to return. But this was a whole other tangled, conflicting issue she didn't wish to dwell on at 9:30 p.m. on a Friday.

"Yes, Rowena Dear, I believe that's all Richard needs. It's his hip you know? Since the surgery, it's never felt the same for him." The graying blonde woman smiled sadly, her hair pulled in an elegant bun. Rowena's smile faltered slightly but she quickly shook it off, handing the woman her order and accepting her credit card.

"I'm sorry to hear that, but I hope these will help," Rowena swiped the card for $35 and change and handed the card back to Mrs. Smith.

"Oh they definitely do. Thank you, Dear. We could buy these organic treatments online but I prefer buying locally from a sweet girl such as yourself."

Rowena smiled and thanked her. She wasn't the only person in Seattle who had caught word of Rowena's shop. Thank the gods Emma and her twin Harold both had finally convinced her to purchase a card reader for her in-home store. A year or so ago such a device would have been an extravagance but, well... the business had benefited from it. Her business had grown with the addition of the quirky device, so the small charges for each purchase didn't really concern her. Mortals were more obsessed now with Witchy and Wiccan culture than they were even in the 1600s. Only, there was a positive spin on it this time. The thought always slightly irritated her.

Frowning at the thought, Rowena shook her head and reminded herself to be grateful. Grateful that her twin brother still spoke to her, cared for her. He was the only one from her family in the Star Realm who still had anything to do with her. The reality of this still hit her sometimes at the most inconvenient of times. Huffing from her own annoyance, Rowena waved goodbye to Darlene and wished her and Richard well. They were good people. She wasn't particularly accustomed to many like them in this world. Most people were decent enough, of course. But few matched the Smiths' souls. She could see them clearly; the warm, glowing presence of their souls. But only if she really focused. She could detect anyone's soul but the effort always took a lot out of her. Emma had a soul soaking in this rare warmth and benevolence as well. However, she did notice that those with the purest souls required less concentration on her part to see. 

Aside from Emma, Rowena had only a few close friends back home, though she had possessed multiple acquaintances. She had a sort of energy about her that attracted people. Sometimes the worst sorts. She assumed it was her empathetic, enthusiastic, and spunky nature that witches, wizards, elves, and mortals were pulled towards. She'd always been a bit eccentric. She also had a naturally kind nature about her and people sometimes tried to take advantage of her. So, she'd learned to distance herself a bit over the years, developing and enveloping herself behind a wall. She decided to leave the Star Realm a few years ago to focus on her true passions, caring for animals and curing ailments. Her departure was the final severing of the already loose bond she had with her parents. 

Her position at the downtown Seattle veterinary clinic paid relatively well, but she enjoyed her small business. She loved caring for and healing the pets that came through the clinic, and her two jobs kept her constantly busy. Until she met Emma earlier this summer, Rowena hadn't minded her own quiet company with her usual customers and furry friends. She found Emma to be much the same, happy in solitude. They were truly kindred spirits in a way. She smiled at the irony of somehow befriending another witch in the Mortal Realm. Not that witches, elves, vampires, and werewolves were necessarily rare in this world, but much less present than your average mortal.

Oh, Mortals. How fragile they were, so delicate, so breakable. Rowena's brow furrowed with worry of the harm this potential war could brew. Her mission to retrieve the missing Queen-Elect of the Witch Kingdom would hopefully help prevent further tensions between the Witch and Elf Kingdoms-the two leading Monarchs of Indamere. The Queen herself was a lost cause, having been rumored to have lost her mind and wits years ago with anxiety levels exceedingly out of sync with the Witches' drive for harmony and balance. This aspect of Witch culture was ingrained in Rowena's mind since the time she was born.

The clock chiming drew her out of her thoughts and she checked the time. It was 10 p.m. and she was late for her friend-date with Emma. Sighing at her carelessness, Rowena untied and tossed her apron and closed up shop, sending a quick text to Emma to let her know she was on the way. They had plans to meet up at Hygge Hotspot for coffee and tea. She could use some herbal tea right now. Her earlier meeting with Damarus had left her slightly antsy and nervous. She didn't want to risk Emma discovering that they knew each other. Not yet anyway. Especially considering they shared the same goal, to convince her to return and rule in Indamere. Unfortunately for her, they were on opposing sides.

Damarus was ordered to return the rogue princess by force if necessary. But he had failed to mention to the Elf King his plans to watch and learn her habits and schedule first in hopes to understand her more fully. Rowena had found it creepy initially but understood his perspective and motives. He needed to learn all he could about her in order to set up a coincidental meeting, a smooth introduction. One that would allow Emma to trust him further upfront. It was necessary for him to already know what made her tick. She felt sorry for him honestly because Emma practiced relatively solitary habits. But, Rowena had seen a slight change in his expression as he spoke about Emma's quiet nature. She saw the spark in his eye. He didn't even realize it, but Rowena figured it'd be best for him to sort out his feelings on his own.

Bedsides, she HAD to convince Emma to join the Witch Kingdom instead. That was her own mission and directive, given to her by the hand of the Queen who was currently acting as leader and advisor in the missing Queen's absence. The people had been without a true monarch for over two decades now, they needed the chosen Heir. She possessed the most magic within her. Emma was chosen even before she was born. She was a prophecy and Rowena had no idea how she planned to inform Emma of all this. She expected the half-witch would not take it well.

Grabbing her burgandy peacoat off its hook, Rowena headed out the door of her downtown home/business and made her way towards Hygge Hotspot. Thank the gods she lived in a city where nothing closed before 2 a.m. on a weekend night. She and Emma made it a habit to meet at the popular spot after 8 p.m. on nights when they both weren't working. She enjoyed this time with her, but the nervous feeling in her stomach intensified. She dreaded having the conversation with her friend that would expose how fake of a person Rowena really was. Well, that wasn't quite fair either. Rowen cared for Emma, very much. In fact, they became friends before she had been given this directive. But now, her mission was more important than the status of their friendship and trust.

She knew Damarus had planned to finally "meet" Emma today at the coffee shop. She knew the basics of his plans. Hoping he would be gone as they agreed by the time she arrived, Rowena pushed down her worries and shivered against the cold. It was only November, but the winter was making its way. The earlier pleasant weather was replaced with windchills and the smell of snow. Holiday lights were already hung, illuminating the streets of Seattle and twinkling with happy abandon. They made Rowena smile, the simple joy they ignited inside her. She always enjoyed small delights, acting as quiet banners of hope against darkness and doom. They could use all the positivity available if she was going to pull this mission off and not lose her friend in the process.


	7. Chapter 7

"So we both like coffee. Seems like a reasonable segue right?" asked Damarus teasingly. He smirked at her, his eyes aglow with flirtish delight. His bright eyes danced in the warm, yellow glow of the coffee shop's ceiling lights. She felt her facing heating, her mouth slightly agape at his intense look. Emma also felt a tightness building below her belly, a slight tug between her legs. She was all out of sorts and praying he didn't notice.

Damarus lowered his eyes and loosened his smirk, taking a tentative sip of his coffee in hopes to relax her. He sensed embarrassment and something more...warm emanating from her. He hadn't meant to shock her.

He seemed completely at ease with her which was a relief for Emma, so she decided to trust him. The only other time she recalled feeling this at ease in the presence of a person this attractive was when she met Rowena. Perhaps this was the year Emma would finally explore a bit out of her comfort zone, even if the year was nearly done. Determined to add a bit more bold in the coming year, Emma chose to contribute to the playful conversation.

"Hmm. Seems a bit easy to me. I think most people like coffee, right? I don't know if this city, let alone the country could survive without it." She took a deliberate, slow sip of her coffee, fully enjoying the amused and surprised face of Damarus looking back at her as she stared at him with her own flirtish challenge. She almost didn't recognize herself. The worlds spilling out of her, her body language...She found herself liking it. The feeling of ease, of confidence.

"I'm convinced the people would revolt if all caffeine was suddenly outlawed," added Damarus, sipping from his own coffee cup.

"What is your coffee flavor poison of choice?" she quipped, cutting her eyes to his beverage.

"A peppermint mocha. What else would be acceptable during this 'magical time'?" he asked while actually adding the air quotes animatedly. Emma had a feeling she could get used to this new, handsome, intimidating guy. She smiled and nodded in response. Seattle was aglow in winter wonderland dreams. She loved it, let him be a grinch about it. She found it kind of charming.

"It would be a crime against all corporate American greed to partake in anything else. Except maybe eggnog," she took another sip of her drink, "or boiled custard on especially festive December nights." Damarus smiled widely.

"You're funny. So, why this place, Emma? This is an interesting spot and it's nice of course, but it's not the typical, energetic place I would pick for an evening with a beautiful girl," he commented as he took another tasty sip of his mocha. He was smiling again but his gaze was averted. Likely to make her more comfortable. Still, Emma flushed at his words. Her ears and face turned a slightly paler version of her pink blush from earlier. He looked up and was struck. The sight of a flushed Emma made Damarus's mouth dry. He lowered his eyes so as to keep himself from staring further.

"OoOoh, weeellll... It's a great place to get to know someone, and have a quiet conversation... Plus, it was just a coffee date, and the price is right, the owner's great, it's not a far walk from work, and I'm familiar with it so..." she trailed off, focusing her attention on a spot on the floor, avoiding his gaze. He smiled anyways at the blushing, rogue princess.

"Well, when you put it that way, this place does have a good atmosphere. Not very adventurous though."

"I'm not really the adventurous type," she whispered, glancing down at the coffee cup she held with both hands.

"I get the feeling that this isn't going to be true for long. You seem like the type of person who's destined for more than your average evening coffee date." He was smiling at her again, almost knowingly. She didn't know why his focus unnerved her so much. While it also made her feel brave and empowered. It was strange. His presence calmed her, but his attention made her practically squirm. She didn't recall ever feeling this way. This man was definitely the most attractive she'd ever coincidentally met in her favorite coffee spot. The only man she'd ever had a random encounter and genuine conversation within this coffee shop. 

"I guess time will tell. Maybe if I meet the right person. Or finally get sick of my dead-end library job" She was still staring at her coffee mug, seemingly lost in a sea of thoughts. Damarus knew he needed to tone down the flirting, but with a girl like Emma, it was hard to resist. She was beautiful with her soft features, expressive teal eyes, her hair golden brown, and her gentle aura. He understood what the weak academic man and Rowena had seen in her. She was articulate and intelligent too.

Damarus mulled over these thoughts before responding, allowing her to process her own thoughts and vent if she felt it necessary. The more comfortable and open she trusted she could be with him the better, regardless of how it personally affected him to be manipulating this beautiful, innocent young woman into a world of political disorder. But, Damarus had his orders. He would not abandon them. No matter how the thoughts of withholding information from her twisted his gut, dug at his conscience. She was still so young...not many years behind him. 

Now she just needed a bit of combat training. Well, most likely a lot of it. But this was the other half of his mission. To train and educate the Elf Kingdom's missing princess before returning her to her rightful place on the throne. He took another deliberate and stressful sip of his coffee. Emma sensed Damarus's mood shift and decided to keep the conversation flowing. She could do this. He was easy to talk to. She opted to keep her personal stresses to herself.

"So, what are some suggestions you have for more appropriate date settings?" she asked, "So I know what to expect and prepare for with someone who won't stand me up," Damarus smirked, his focus and mood immediately shifting back to his earlier, relaxed tone. He moved closer to her, almost conspiratorially. He liked being this close to her. She smelled of pink Himalayan salt, peonies, and sea mist.

"Dates aren't something you should prepare for! They're something you experience, Emma! You know, with someone who's worthy of your time. Not like that loser for tonight. If he was honorable at all he would never have settled for this place as a first date with the honorable Lady Emma. Something tells me you haven't met a man or woman who measures up."

Emma grinned from ear to ear. Pink with amused joy rather than embarrassment. Their banter seemed to lessen her earlier nervousness to warm enthusiasm. She was having fun with him, he thought. He wanted to make her smile again.

"Perhaps I haven't. Good thing you showed up to inform me of my serious lack of decent dating experience. And that I'm worthy of the title 'Lady' apparently" She actually smirked now, her own teal eyes glazed with flirtish mischief, and sipping her drink again as the indie rock group began their introductions. She turned in her seat to watch them. Damarus turned his attention to the group as well and quietly frowned at the distraction from their conversation. After a few songs, he had to admit they weren't bad though. Pretty entertaining actually, well, they couldn't hold a candle to Endamere's talented musicians, but this was a mundane realm, he reminded himself. There was little magical about it. With the expectation of the woman in front of him. Why did these tender thoughts consistently enter his brain? He shook his head with mild frustration and insurmountable amounts of irritating, male urges. He wanted to get her alone. In an alley, in her apartment, in this coffee shop. It suddenly didn't matter to him. This all felt too dangerous, she was too close. 

Before he got the chance to interrupt their listening with his own panicked thoughts Emma turned to him and demanded brightly, "Okay, Romeo, enlighten me on what a great first date makes? This comes as a request from your most honorable Lady Emma."

Damarus wasn't about to admit he had no idea who "Romeo" was but just as he prepared to make a smart-ass comment back to her, he noticed how her smile grew. Her face was aglow, a spark reflecting the holiday lights from Seattle's streets. In fact, she seemed to be shining with a different sort of glow. A glow of not only warmth but maybe even power buried somewhere underneath her skin. Perhaps this realm wasn't so mundane and magicless after all, pondered Damarus before he grabbed his opportunity and ran with it.


	8. Chapter 8

Rowena finally slowed her pace after a two-mile sprint from her humble home and small shop. She breathed heavily and hunched over with her hand on her chest, steadying herself. She heaved in fits full of sharp, bitter air. The cool breathes bit into her lungs and chest as her heartbeat began to slow. The weather was finally agreeing with the usual cadence of Seattle's autumn season. She leaned against the vintage bricked building and took a glance at her wrist watch. Shit, She was at least 20 minutes late for her date with Emma. She prayed her nervous, punctual friend wouldn't be too upset for her abandonment on an exciting Friday night.

But as Rowena glanced past her watch, her heavy breathing and bubbling anxieties came to a sudden halt. Sitting near the local band was that beautiful, nervous friend and the unexplainably attractive elf she had run into earlier, Damarus. She felt the familiar flurry of her worries intensify. He was still here! They had agreed for him to be long gone by the time Rowena was supposed to meet up with Emma. She wasn't anticipating this sort of encounter between the three of them this soon. Damarus had seemed like a reasonable being, certainly he noticed the warning signs flarring. They had agreed earlier today that a meeting between all three of them needed to occur as soon as possible, but she had been hoping they could at least put it off more than 24 hours in order to formulate an actual plan.

They both still had their own motives for becoming friendly and close to the girl. Rowena hated herself for it, but reminded herself that her initial focus now was the concern and love she has for her friend. Emma was not a typical person, and not just for her diverse family line. She was genuine and did not allow the stains of life smear her kind, sunny disposition. Rowena knew the orders she was given, but would not risk a treasure such as Emma to be wiped away from the world. She'd give anything to assure the protection of her half-witch, half-elf friend. She had no idea how to explain to Emma why they came to be friends and the truth of her parents, of her identity.

Now she had this secret and another to hide from her dear friend. How could she lie to her about not knowing Damarus? Had they discussed her or anything other personal aspect of Emma's life in the last few hours? The possibilities and consequences of these possibilities were endless and Rowena realized it would be no use to dwell on what-if's in 40 degree weather with a wind chill. Especially when she was already 20 minutes late. She decided to go ahead and join her friend and Damarus. She'd act as though she knew him. A customer she was familiar with perhaps. That would seem reasonable enough. She prayed he was as clever and quick on his feet as he was charming. She could only hope so much as she took another gulp of courage, and opened the glass door into the cozy, rhythmic bliss of the Hygge Hotspot.

# ***

Damarus's gaze abruptly slid from the alluring Emma Jacobs and the surprisingly talented local band to the adjacent window from their table. A long-hewn instinct told him to glance in this direction. That, and the witch's scent would have been evident to him a mile away in this mundane realm. His suspicions of being watched were proved as Rowena stared wide-eyed at him from the outside window of the quaint coffee shop. Elves were blessed with significant senses and he remembered to thank the gods more thoroughly tonight as Rowena approached with a friendly, if not slightly tentative, guarded smile. Gods he hoped they weren't about to be in a heap of an inescapable shit now. He couldn't believe how significantly he lost track of time while chatting with Emma. He voiced a silent prayer to the gods that Rowena wouldn't tear him apart later for his misstep.

His morning introductions with Rowena had been pleasant enough. He liked the witch. She seemed less ambitious and power-hungry than the majority of her kind. She lived in the mortal realm for gods sake. If that didn't prove her humble and laid-back nature he wasn't sure what would. No witch with her family name would do such a thing, yet, here she was-literally, outside the shop. She also expressed a particular fondness for Emma, of which, Damarus certainly could not blame her for. The young woman was quite bewitching herself. He chuckled at his own pathetic pun and shared a smile with Rowena as she crossed to their table.

"Hey!", exclaimed the frazzled Rowena, her burnished copper, unkempt locks seemed to reflect her current state of being. She was dressed in an oversized, off-the-shoulder band t-shirt and ripped jeans. A casual evening between friends indeed, Damarus mused. He knew he shouldn't judge her for her appearance but courtly rules and regulations tended to run deep. Besides, Rowena was from a prominent clan of witches, a well-known family name. But the witch appeared to have detached herself from that name and all it's responsibilities associated with it entirely. He decided to tuck this information away.

"So sorry I'm late. I kept the shop open just a touch longer for Darlene."

"Hey! It's no worry, how is her husband?"

Damarus glanced curiously at Emma. The two women must be even closer than he previously believed for her to be concerned about a random patron of Rowena's shop. Though, he only had the earlier conversation that day with Rowena to go off of.

"He's fine, just a bit of pressure on his hip since the weather's changing..." Rowena paused a moment to focus her attentions on Damarus and smoothly acquired a small, recognizing smile.

"Oh my goodness, I had no idea you knew Damarus?!" Rowena look pointeded at the elf, making it clear she meant for him to fill in the rest of the blanks.

"Oh my, Rowena, how nice to see you."

"How exactly did you meet my gorgeous friend, Emma?!" Rowena knew it was a stretch to highlight her shy friend's appearance. She'd likely get an earful of grievances from Emma for it, but she needed her friend to really believe Rowena and Damarus were in no means scheming together. It would be better for Emma to assume Rowena was trying to play matchmaker between friends and business. Before she could sputter or attempt to respond to Rowena's comment Damarus swooped in to save the evening for all three of them.

"I had the pleasure of running into Emma here at this coffee shop. Turns out we have similar tastes in our beverage preferences."

Sweet Emma blushed, but not from shame, Rowena realized, nor out of nerves, but perhaps romantic interest? Her friend smiled unabashedly at the handsome elf and a new buzzing worry settled in Rowena's chest. She genuinely hoped once the truth was out, that nothing would affect nor hurt her friend more than necessary. She would see to it if needed. She wasn't afraid of some ancient elf. She would ensure his intentions were honorable, even if her old hex bags were required to do so.

"Turns out perppermint mochas really bring people together," Emma half whispered glancing down with a knowing smile at her long-chilled coffee mug before returning her gaze and smile to Damarus. Perhaps a bit timid, but she glowed and Rowena noticed a touch of a glow coming from her new elf partner as well as he returned her smile. She prayed to the gods this wouldn't come back to bite them all in the ass. The band announced a 30 minute recess which Rowena planned to take to her full advantage.

"That's so sweet. The world survives on coffee, and herbs apparently. Party monster Damarus over here can't get enough of my shop's herbs," she smirked at the stricken Elf. She knew he snorted pixie dust. The evidence was smeared on his grey peacoat from this morning. Most had been skillfully brushed away but the smell lingered on him. He must have had an exciting evening a few nights ago. The shocked look on his face only confirmed her theory. She enjoyed the look of surprise on his smug face. She would make sure he knew she knew the kind of male he was. He definitely wasn't good enough for her friend. But she would have to worry about the fallout of this encounter later. 

"Yes, as an adamant customer, Rowena should be familiar with my herbal pursuits." Damarus drawled, recovering himself before Emma noticed his expression. "I've been a loyal patron for oh, a few weeks now right?"

Let her take the brunt of the conversation now. Damarus was pissed she even brought the topic up. It was obvious he didn't want Emma to know this little scandalous tidbit about his personality. Even the mundanes had developed mind-altering potions to drown out the realities they face everyday of their boring lives. But even the most outrageous and dangerous potions in the mundane realm didn't hold a candle to the ecstasy experienced with elvish pixie dust. He made another mental note to inquire with Rowena about her own troves of magical drugs in her shop. He knew she likely had a stash stored away for other immortal customers.

"Oh yes, very loyal, and a great tipper too," quirked Rowena. If they wanted this exchange to go smoothly as possible they had to play along and not give Emma any indication that there may be even the hint of tension between them. Emma would notice. She was exceptionally obtuse in that way. Most likely due to her witchy heritage Rowena mused with a smirk.

"That's really nice. Even successful businesses like Rowena's thrive on great people, err, I mean, tippers like you, Damarus." Emma was truly blushing this time from embarrassment. It was clear she was interested in him outside of a one-time meet cute coffee date. Rowena certainly hoped her new elf acquaintance felt the same way. Based on the easy, assuring smile he offered Emma now, Rowena's doubts began to fade, and new worries started to fizzle. She knew he'd play along if necessary, she only prayed it wasn't an act. She hoped they weren't digging an even bigger hole they had no hopes of escaping from.

# ***

The evening continued quietly with polite conversation surrounding healing herbs, coffee choices, and the local band which had began to play again as Rowena made her leave. Claiming she needed to be well-rested for a shipment coming in early tomorrow morning, she gathered her coat and kissed Emma good-bye on the cheek.

"Take good care of her, Damarus. I expect her in one piece tomorrow afternoon."

"I don't expect for this coffee shop to burst into a ragger any time soon," He quipped, but his smile and tone were easy and relaxed, almost genuine, Rowena thought.

His focus rested on Emma. Maybe, he was genuine. She didn't let herself dwell on this growing worry in her stomach as she smiled, waved, and walked out the shop. Emma's gaze followed her beautiful, confident friend with a look of dread on her own face. Damarus began to worry he had overestimated the girl's interest in him.

But Emma returned his gaze and smiled shyly once again. Phew, just her nerves Damarus thought. He found himself surprised at the bloom of joy he felt in his chest at the thought that this half-breed beauty enjoyed his company. Oh yes, the topic of her heritage. This discussion would be exilerating he imagined. It didn't need to happen tonight, though. He wanted to savor every moment with her before offering to walk her home.

"Did you get your peppermint mocha fix in for this chilly evening, Emma?" Damarus teased. His eyes shone even brighter than before now that all of his attentions lay on Emma again. She smiled at the thought, slightly shocked that a guy focused most of his energies on her instead of her spellbounding friend. Rowena's hair alone begged for attention. She thanked the coffee-making powers that be for this evening, even if it was a fleeting, one-time treat. She tentatively hoped otherwise.

"Can anyone ever get a full fix of peppermint mocha in one evening, Damarus?" She teased back with a smirk on her face. Her eyes shone with mischief, and even the hint that she hoped this evening occurred again. Little did she know he relied on more than just coffee to get his own fix.

The surge of a chaotic, explosive rush from pixie dust couldn't be compared to mortal caffeine. But Damarus didn't want to dwell on his shortcomings, and didn't want Emma to see them so soon either. Not that it truly mattered what she thought of him...He chastised himself again for wasting so much of his thoughts and concerns on her approval. He was here for one reason: to retrieve the missing elf princess of Indamere. He'd do well to remind himself of this once again before offering to walk her home in the blustering dark. Little did poor Damarus know, what magic can be brought on the unexpected during the holiday season in Seattle, Washington.


	9. Chapter 9

"Is Seattle always this inconceivably beautiful this time of year?" Damarus inquired with a hint of bemusement, his attention fixed on the snowflakes dancing in the wind. The snow had miraculously begun falling about an hour prior to their departure from the Hygge Hotspot. Emma found herself awestruck at the sight of gentle flakes landing in the male's beautiful hair. It made Emma's face heat and stomach twist, her heart began beating quickly. She somehow realized that she was in a world of trouble now, but honestly, she wasn't sure she wanted a way out. It was snowing! Snowing of all things, and in November- early on in the month at that. This weather had always secretly been Emma's favorite.

Everywhere she went, people seemed to resent the winter season and all its inconveniences. She couldn't entirely blame them. Seattle wasn't exactly well known for its pleasant weather anyways and the added cold seemed to put the locals on edge. But Emma always found peace on cloudy, rainy days, and snowy days. Thunderstorms inspired her to write, but the snow had always been her absolute favorite. The quiet of the world that transpires before, during, and a day or two after the snow when the world is covered in a blanket of pure white makes her heart sing. She never could explain it. But she appreciated, savored even, the quiet a snowstorm brought. Like a cleansing and settling calm of the world itself. Emma was lost in these thoughts before realizing she'd yet to respond to Damarus. She cleared her throat to make up for the lost time.

"Usually yes, but for a different reason. It's only November 5th after all. There's often a burst of autumn colors and scents throughout the city which is, of course, lovely, but it very rarely snows this early in the season. It must truly be my lucky night..." She looked up at him. This bashful, brave, girl looked him square in the face to measure his response. He felt himself smiling automatically while also realizing that he had her. She would surely trust him now. But he still needed to take his time...get to know the woman a bit more before keying her in regarding their not-so-coincidental meet-up at the rustic coffee shop.

"I suppose it's our lucky night, Emma." His smirk was infectious, especially as it grew to a grin. Emma found herself grinning back, and quickly stared down at her feet in order to hide her blush. Damarus could smell it; that scent of roses, and pink sea salt, and vanilla emanating from her soft, cream-colored skin. She must be wearing a light scented lotion he noted. Her cheeks bloomed a gentle pink. Her obvious discomfort increased with each step they took towards her apartment. Damarus decided to spare her.

"Snow always relaxes me. Makes me...I don't know, take a moment, I suppose? Reflect, breathe new, fresh and sharp air. The kind of air that makes me realize after I'm done with my moment of reflection and rest, that I need to refocus on areas of my life that need the most work. But just for a moment, I feel that the world is at peace. I am at peace."

Emma gasped softly beside him and looked up at him suddenly. There was an inexplicable surprise shining in her eyes. "Oh wow. I have the same process...How coincidental." She turned abruptly back to the sidewalk in front of her.

"Hmm. Perhaps it is, perhaps not," he smiled sideways at her, she glanced back nervously but a soft, hopeful smile reached her face as she faced forward again, preparing for her rebuttal no doubt.

"That's rather interesting. Maybe we should test this question further." She was smirking herself now. This clever, alluring half-breed woman. Damarus decided right there and then to never refer to her as that term. She deserved better than that. He couldn't help his curiosities in regards to the girl. He smiled back at her, a smile filled with enticing, sensual promise.

"I rather agree. I think we should test this theory again, say, tomorrow night? We can meet again for coffee if you'd like. Take some time to...get to know each other before we make our future dates too adventurous" he offered hopefully.

Emma felt her heart swell and her eyes shine with glistening joy. She'd never felt this...smitten? Elated? Connected to a potential sexual partner or even a serious boyfriend. He had this, eagerness about him. And she couldn't deny the spark of electricity she knew they mutually felt as they gently teased each other. A flirtatious game of back and forth.

"Looks like I'll be replenishing my peppermint latte fix sooner than anticipated. It's a date. I'm off tomorrow."

"And what about Sunday?" Damarus inquired with another promising smile causing unexpected and completely dramatic heating between her legs. Emma wanted him. Badly. But she didn't want to throw herself at him just yet. She needed to at least know a bit more about him. Like his favorite color, his preferred reading and tv genres, maybe even where he saw himself in five to ten years. Emma wanted to know about it all and this realization alone nearly scared her to a halt. Damarus should have considered himself lucky she didn't briskly offer him a "good night" and dash like hell for her apartment alone.

"I'm off then too, but I have this morning breakfast date with my mother.." Emma paused, considering, "that last part was redundant. It's a Sunday. Of course, breakfast is going to take place in the morning." She half laughed at herself. He was happy she wasn't doubting herself this time. He hoped this growing confidence continued. He would make sure her self-esteem grew abundantly. He needed it to. All of Indamere relied on powerful, self-assured leaders. He would mold her if necessary.

Damarus decided to reassure her, "Hey, I know many el....people who prefer a hearty breakfast meal in the evening hours instead." He pondered whether she registered his hesitation and noticed how he almost referred to all of his friends as elves. How odd that would have sounded. Emma huffed a laugh next to him.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence. But yes, I'm free Sunday afternoon." She wouldn't elaborate about her schedule. She liked to keep at least a few details about her personal life to herself, that is until she got to better know someone. It took Rowena about two months to figure out Emma's usual work schedule due to her own hectic tasks that kept her in the store. It kept her busy enough as several hipsters young and old lived in the bustling city that was their home.

Emma loved that about the city, the inconspicuousness of it. The fact that if she truly wanted to, she could disappear into her own, private bubble and break all ties with those close to her. All she'd have to do is request a slight schedule change and never tell anyone she previously associated with the alterations. She didn't believe it'd ever come to that, but she knew from experience that sometimes distancing herself did a lot more good than clinging to toxic relationships. It's why she only met up with her mother for a breakfast date about once a month. She hated the hurt looks her mother always wore as they parted ways once again, but Emma didn't necessarily regret her decision. She had been suffocated by her mother's love, her mother's delusions more likely, she privately thought. She detached for her own good. And perhaps for her mother's own good too.

"How about a stroll in the local park?" I checked the weather for this weekend and it's supposed to be gorgeous. Strange, considering it's snowing currently.''

Emma snorted. "Yes, strange indeed. But, that's weather I suppose. It's usually poor around this time of year. That is if you don't enjoy the rain. I don't really mind it. I like it actually." She was a little stunned to be giving away this much information about herself voluntarily. She never spoke this much to strangers, yet, Damarus somehow didn't feel strange. There was a strong present air of familiarity between them that she suspected he recognized too. She looked forward to exploring this curiosity with him.

"But to answer your question, yes. A stroll sounds nice, rain or not. There are coffee carts at the front and middle of the park too. I guarantee they'll be selling peppermint mocha lattes. Ah, this is me." Emma indicated her head towards the door a few steps in front of them. Damarus stopped and looked up at the door. The familiarity of it made him feel queasy. He hated lying to her, hated that he had been spying on her these past few weeks. But he would make it right, make it up to her, in whatever means he could.

"Oh no, so soon?" Damarus offered a mocking pout that made Emma chuckle. "I suppose that just means I know where to find you. I'm sorry about your date, Emma. It seems like he didn't deserve you."

Emma swallowed. "Thank you, and no worries. I wasn't 100% stoked about the prospect of dating Josh anyways. He was nice but...kind of boring. Guess I'll have to walk you home next time so we can even the score." She smirked, feeling triumphant at Damarus's delightedly surprised, but damn right impressive face.

"Touché, my lady! Agreed. After our next coffee date tomorrow evening. Perhaps a touch of an earlier start? How does 7 p.m. work for you?"

Emma smiled, "Your lady agrees to these terms. 7 p.m. it is. I'll see you at the Hygge Hotspot then. Bring your caffeine game."

"Oh, I wouldn't dream otherwise, Emma," Damarus practically whispered. He had a sinking feeling he truly was in trouble now. An inkling feeling in the back of his mind he couldn't quite explain. He was on the foot of a threshold. It was either treat Emma with the respect she most certainly deserved, or continue to lie to her face, deceiving her into trusting him. How dramatic, he mused.

She smiled a real genuine smile. Not a grin though, she didn't appear to like to show her teeth often. He pondered if this may stem from her obviously anxious nature. She emanated discomfort towards crowds, personal questions, and didn't talk a lot about herself. Damarus was dumbfounded by his growing interest in this half-witch, half-elf. He had happily learned so far that Emma was a timid, yes, but surprisingly brave woman. She caused foreign feelings to rise all through him at this moment. That smile shining through his cold heart. A fact he chose not to focus too much energy or dread on. He felt his senses on the rise and his teeth were on edge. He couldn't explain it. The bafflement of it was insufferable. But deep down, he knew he found the woman attractive. He dreaded what this realization could possibly mean. For him and for the poor girl he was courting/deceiving.

"Have a good night, I'll see you tomorrow," he offered her a short wave, a soft quirk of his lips, and off we went into the snowy, glistening night. The street lights appeared to flicker brighter as he passed. Emma couldn't decide whether she was losing her mind and all her good senses, or if she was finally grabbing at a taste of life


End file.
